


Pendulum

by tatterwitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Language, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD, Purgatory memories, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:07:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/pseuds/tatterwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of my ficlet promo things: "I love that nightmare one, Risss you're so amazing. Any chance you could do a Dean and Benny one like that? I live for post nightmare cuddles and watching season 8 atm so major Dean/Benny feels. Thanks Darlinggg"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pendulum

Dean felt like he was going crazy.

After Purgatory, everything was just so...Monotonous. It was mind-meltingly calm. Almost peaceful in comparison.

Purgatory was fast, deceptive, clouded with adrenaline and the thrill of the hunt. It was baser instincts and sheer survival of the fittest and those who were most brutal.

And it wasn’t like Dean could talk to Sam about any of it. The kid just wouldn’t get what Dean felt.

Hell, sometimes _Dean_ didn’t even know how he felt.

Sometimes, he wouldn’t mind the calmer days. The rumbling purr of the Impala and the easy quiet of hotel rooms were things he was used to and often found comfort in.

Sometimes, he had days where his muscles twitched and jumped. When his heart seemed ready to beat out of his chest and the itch to run, to feel something fall, die beneath his hands became almost too much.

Dean was a heavy pendulum that swung between the two sharply contrasting feelings. And under his dangling feet was an abyss of undiluted darkness that threatened to swallow him whole at any turn.

Nightmares plagued Dean. He’d always fought them after his return from hell. But he’d learned ways to stave them off; alcohol, sleep deprivation...But none of those things worked for those new dreams.

Dean didn’t dare fall asleep without at least some sort of light on. Waking up in complete darkness only made that tight, twisty feeling in his throat and chest worse.

Night after night, if Dean let himself fall asleep, he’d wake up in a cold sweat. His heart would be racing near out of his chest. His hands would cranked tight around his hunting knife and pistol.

Cas...Cas was God-knew-where. The dumb son of a bitch had fallen away back there. And no matter what thoughts or words he told himself, Dean always felt like, in some stupid way, it was his fault.

And Benny.

Benny was down south somewhere, doing whatever it took to track down whoever the hell he was after.

Dean missed Benny. The vampire had become more than an ally in Purgatory.

He...He’d grown on Dean.

Dean missed the way Benny talked, all slow and drawling after carefully contemplating his words.

Dean missed the way he and Benny had worked together; flawless and indomitable. Able to trust one another no matter the situation or its out-come.

Dean missed the way Benny acted as his anchor, mooring him and keeping him from drifting.

Dean just fucking missed Benny.

So when his name popped up on Dean’s caller ID, Dean felt his heart give an aborted stutter.

Minutes later, he was on the road, engine snarling and gravel flying.

Right away, the two of them clicked again. Dean could feel it, their ragged edges snapping together and fastening. He felt...whole.

Amidst meager conversation, Benny dozed in the car. Dean envied the ease which the vampire relaxed and shut his eyes.

They stayed at a motel that night, pouring over maps and circling little spots where Benny tapped his blunt fingertips.

Around one in the morning, Benny glanced up at Dean and voiced his concerns.

“Chief, ain’t you gonna grab some sleep? This is one fight you don’t wanna be goin’ into sleepy-eyed.”

Dean knuckled at his eyes and shook his head.

“Not yet. Just need to grab a few hours. Four’ll do it.”

Those pale blue eyes regarded Dean with a no-nonsense stare. It made Dean’s skin squirm.

“Something’s up with you. What’s wrong?”

Dean pulled a face.

“I’m fine, Benny.”

“Dean,” Benny began in a stern voice. “I know two things like the back of my hand. Purgatory and you. And I know something’s eatin’ you, brother. Spit it out.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped as he studied the toes of his boots. The brown leather was worn thin, exposing the steel caps over his toes in some places. He’d have to get a new pair soon.

“ _Dean_.”

Dean clenched his jaw and huffed out a breath.

“I have nightmares, okay? Just...I don’t know. It’s so different up here, man. I’m always jumpy and wired up. I feel like a loaded gun just ready to go off at any minute.”

Benny leaned against the table’s edge.

“You talk to Sam ‘bout this?”

Dean made a noise of exasperation.

“He wouldn’t get it.”

“I think he would try, Dean. From what you’ve told me, your brother is a good man. He’s smart and has a hell of a lot of empathy. And he’d be willin’ to try and help you.”

Dean hiked his shoulders and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, well, me and him aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye at the moment, so that cozy little talk is gonna have to wait, I guess.”

Benny’s brows furrowed, a worry line forming.

“You want to talk ‘bout it with me?”

Dean had every intention of scoffing out a ‘no’. He really did.

But when he opened his mouth, other words poured right on out. Everything Dean had been feeling, everything he’d thought, done...It all came tumbling out.

“I-I missed you, Benny. A lot. I just-Fuck.” Dean drilled his knuckles into his thigh. “Goddammit, Benny. I missed _you_.”

The admission was out before he could call it back. Hell. He sounded like some spurned, whining love interest in a sappy romance film.

Dean didn’t hear or see Benny move.

Suddenly, there were strong, brawny arms wrapped around his body. A solid, barrel chest pressed against his own.

Dean stiffened for a minute, his body tightening up as if it perceived a threat. Then, he relaxed, a heavy, shuddering breath gusting from his lips.

Slowly, he lifted his arms and returned the embrace, pressing his face into the crook of Benny’s neck. He smelled like cotton, wool, warmth and blood where a small red spot marred the collar of his shirt. It was comforting and grounding.

Dean felt his mind cease its endless track of motion and settle. Benny’s broad hands rubbed over his back in wide circles.

“C’mon, chief. Let’s get you to bed so you can catch some shut-eye, huh?”

Dean slumped against the bumpy mattress and punched the pillow into an acceptable shape beneath his head.

Benny straightened, taking one step away from the bed. Dean reached out, throat abruptly tight.

“Can-Can you just stay here? Stay with me? In case I have a nightmare?”

Blue eyes crinkled at the corners and white teeth flashed in a tiny smile. Benny shucked his coat and rolled up his sleeves, kicking his shoes off at the foot of the bed. Dean scooched over, taking most of the sheets with him.

Benny settled in behind Dean; his chest pressed over Dean’s back and one arm slung over Dean’s waist. Very softly, Benny began to hum a lullaby Dean vaguely recognized. He was out like a light seconds later.

Not once did Dean wake up during the night.


End file.
